


The Silent Angel

by Itachi_S_Lucius



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Constipation, Emotionally Repressed, F/M, Female Natsu Dragneel, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Natsu Dragneel, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sexual Abuse, Sign Language, Teen Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, mute character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itachi_S_Lucius/pseuds/Itachi_S_Lucius
Summary: They were gone, by all prowess he was considered responsible for their demise. His silence bound him, his magic sickened him, yet there she stood, a glorious flame against his dwindling light.
Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Laxus Dreyar
Kudos: 11





	1. Lonely Awakening, A Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> I warn you there is a female Natsu. And Laxus does become out of character slightly in due course with the plot.

Twas his assumption that the cold breeze awoke her, slowly with the bite of its sharp sensation to bring her back within consciousness. Laxus observed as she woke. He leant silent against the tree, with his gaze strayed downwards towards the pinkette woman as her muscles twitched, and his instincts began to resurface. It took a moment for her to come into conscious understanding, though when she did Natsu's eyes snapped open, to dance around the unfamiliar landscape, he might've disturbed her comfortable waking. On instinctual action and much familiar movement;Natsu leapt to an urgent attention, examining anything that may be a threat. Laxus noted; it was an animalistic, even aggressive action taken by a rather kind-minded, soft-hearted girl, though easily recognizable and familiar. However, when her blackened, grey eyes caught onto his own, Laxus felt his chest constrict with the gaze. As Natsu let out a casual sigh of relaxation under recognition. His own eyes moved away, it was not a stare he wished to maintain, given history, and his muscles twitched under the scrutiny.

The lightning mage doubted his own ability to relay recent events, as he knew the girl before him since childhood, he could and would make a large bet that he would find himself under the consequence of a enflamed fist once more in blame should he attempt to summarize. The pinket was calm for now though, looking about without a disturbed expression crossing her visage and the overall aura of ease, perhaps comfort, if Laxus could put himself to say such a thing. Whilst he himself sat slouched against a tree in waiting for the stone to drop, for remembrance to hit the other mage square on the forehead and any happiness and relaxation to dissipate, just as it had for himself.

It did with the same clarity as it had for himself, he watched it occur: Watched as wide eyelids opened just that fraction wider, as her jaw became lax, as fearful irises turned to him. And Laxus forced himself to keep calm as Natsu began to tremble before him."Laxus?" The question was a quiet one, unexpected, and unusual for one so commonly loud and though something that would have been welcome in a normal circumstance: Laxus found himself wishing for the brazen, voluminous voice of the Natsu he had known. Not the hesitance of the one before him, not the fear.

"Yeah." He answered simplistically, because he didn't have an explanation on hand. Though he had thought up many when Natsu had been in a deep slumber beside him; he had none that would properly convey anything proper now, no reasoning that wouldn't hurt more.

Candour was something he'd prided himself upon for many years, candour, stoicism, perhaps morale if he thought about it hard enough. However, contrasting that, the ability for comfort or raw kindness he had never found himself particularly capable within: In simplicity, he had always been left unknowing when it had been necessary for him to show sympathy, always uncertain and too blunt in his answers or attempts to soothe anyone.

So now as it was; he sat in silence with his hands hanging off the updrawn perches of his knees, watching as Natsu on shaking legs stood to look around her in a dazed confusion he -personally- doubted he could properly comprehend. Watched, as his own coat fell off of the slim and tensed shoulders to the dirt as pink hair swayed slightly in one direction and then the next, looking for something. Watching, Laxus kept his mouth firmly shut as Natsu turned to look at him once more, this time with eyes turned downwards, a confusion already deeply engraved into her black irises, while her small nose frantically twitched desperately to find a scent of someone else, her fists were already formed as was her typical hot-anger began to spread throughout the fire-mage's mind and body. Laxus found that familiar as well.

"Where is everyone?" Again, Laxus didn't know how to answer, comfort, kindness, and support didn't come easily unto him; they fled away and hid everytime he attempted from what he knew. His grandfather's blood or not, none of those inherit had learnt his skill for empathy or sympathy.

Sighing, he stood himself, ignoring his own shaking knees, and unintentionally making Natsu look up towards him as he grabbed his coat, shook the dirt, and slung it around his right arm as he crossed both of them over his chest. Knowing himself, he looked down to the kid beneath him -now looking up at him with a fire burning in curiosity inside,- and the lightning mage acknowledged he had to say something. Or else it would turn into a brawl for no reason, there would be no answers and Natsu would merely be fighting him for the sake of ebbing away her own concern.

"They're gone." Was all his lips brought forth, and he cursed himself the stoic nature within that had made it sound so harsh. However, something did clench alongside inside him as the words were belayed; and although his tears had yet to shed at the knowledge he had forced himself to acknowledge, an emotion had still managed to settle deeply inside him at the understanding that part of the family and friends he had known his entire life, were dead. The burden made his own shoulders tense and the thick familiar weight of his coat seem all too heavy. It was unfathomably similar to another comprehensive feeling he'd had as a teenager, whence his father had purposefully decided to leave Fiore after banishment from the guild, without a care for his own sons wellbeing. Laxus despised that he could draw comparison from such an event.

In front of him, Natsu was quiet, and they both stood that way, neither of them did anything to ease the frothing tension. Laxus distinctly hoped that the girl in front of him was not actually in denial yet still of her own father's departure. But bile rose through his throat at the thought that he might -actually be right, and that Natsu's father was too much alike his own; an absent father without a care for his child, some part of the lightning mage hoped that Igneel was indeed a dragon just as that who had attacked them had been.

Eventually however, the mounted silence broke with Laxus's voice and hesitantly spoken words. An attempted explanation he had come up with previously, with a bland voice and shuttering- periodic words as his chest heaved to force them through his clogged throat. "I tried to get us all out of there, teleport us using my lightning magic… I guess it was too much. I watched while teleporting us, I watched a light, the blast, just… consume them." Intense black eyes shot forwards, their gaze firmly affixed to his own, and Laxus found himself captured by the cold they produced without a word spoken, the stabbing comprehension belayed through them was more then he could bare, and he flickered his own away before he crumbled beneath the frost he saw within.

"I remember, you were holding my hand in the circle." Fire fists clenched, and a hardened scowl formed on chipped, dried lips. It did not take long for a wetness to draw itself into the grey eyes, and the tears to fell freely down plush cheeks, yet the hardened visage did not leave. Natsu adverted herself from the glare she'd cast, and Laxus watched her once more, looking down, as his own arms tightened around his chest and something began to dampen at his own lids. He didn't recognize the expression Natsu had formed, he had never seen it, and he hadn't involved himself so deeply into Natsu's life that he could recognize expression from mood. But it was different from the demeanor of the girl he knew.

He waited for a response, for an action. Instead he got a gaze staring intent into his own. "We don't know if that 'light' killed them!" The yell shattered his hesitation, as the sudden brashness of the old Natsu appeared before his eyes in full extroversion. "I say we wait! And if they don't show up in a few days then we get everyone in the guild and go find them!" Laxus had nothing to say against the demand, there was not a word in his vocabulary that wouldn't sound cruel.

* * *

He sat within his apartment for the most part, basked in silence and not particularly confronting the situation surrounding him. Even being independent, focused, and self reliant the simple task of making dinner came upon him as a challenge. His mentality knew it to be a ridiculous consideration, even so, he held the pan in his hand and stared unto it, not moving, as he had done so many times before. The stove remained on, and he didn't quite understand his own actions.

Mentally, he told himself in an affirmed voice, loud and knowing, that his actions were stupid. Because he had been a grown man for many years, living on his own and caring for himself nearly as long, longer; yet, the feelings within him were uprising and reminding him bitterly that he had once been cared for by a man now gone, someone whom he might never see once more, and the sour thought was inflicting how he moved, he couldn't move the pan for dinner in that understanding, knowing his grandfather had once done the same action once before in order to make his meals.

A sting came unto his chest, one which he had felt previous, but never under the same comprehension. He abandoned his attempt. Turning to an action that bore no reminder of how he had been raised, moving to his nightstand and taking out the knitting he kept far from anyone he'd known. It was a comforting secret action, his father had near taken from him in his attempt at child-rearing. Once opening the dresser, his attention however, was drawn to the picture resting upon it. Standing hidden underneath a rejected cloth he had not bothered to be rid of, the scowl which flickered onto his face in glimpsing at the frame standing in his vision was automatic and drawn through a past remembrance that brought bad memories cascading unto him: his biological family staring blankly at him inside the wooden frame. Even so, Laxus sighed as opposed to grasping onto his hidden habit he grabbed the phone card beside, and forced his fingers to type the name he'd made them to ignore.

He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his free hand through his standing blond hair. Waiting, and partially wondering if the man would take to answering the call. Wanting in the meantime to simply ignore the necessity put upon him as he did so.

"What do you want boy?" The voice came though much as Laxus had come to expect it. He slouched at the familiar greeting, though he hadn't expected a difference in the years, he still found himself snorting at the predictability, at the frigidity. "I'm busy, and you're interrupting, my time isn't free." Again, he snorted, this time in the direction of himself as he wondered how he could have considered such a tone as one of care as a child and teen.

"Whatever Pops, you can relax, this isn't a goddamn social call. I'm just letting you know-" he paused, finding the wording difficult, but forcing the sentence with a drawn-out sigh. "-gramps passed away recently." His hand clenched inside his hair wondering if he should listen to Natsu's belief and add an 'i think' onto the end, he didn't. He pult at his hair, hand freezing mid-motion as his lungs took a pause from breathing for a moment. He didn't know if his father would even react at the news, knowing the man's true nature, he doubted it.

"I see." It wasn't a cheer shouted into his ear, but it wasn't a crying sob echoing the space around him either. And if he were honest onto himself -which in despite of his own candid nature, he had never been good with- it was not one of the expected responses he'd readied himself for, but he heard a stutter -as if a trembling of breath likened to his own, before the call was disconnected there without his own action bringing it's close, and he looked to the card at the unexpected dispatch from his ear for a moment.

He stood, ignoring it, and instead grabbed the yarn and needles he had wanted to have in his hands by now. Allowing the familiar repetition to vacate his thoughts away for him for a while.

* * *

It worked for a prolonged time, until the knock on his door sounded, loudly banging and automatically irritating to sensitive ears. The glare he cast to the front of his apartment and by logic it did nothing to cease the sound. So he rose from his seat as it continued, with a ragied loud sigh following as he forced himself to move, his mood which was already disjointed now becoming something heightened into a want to punch his disrupter.

Opening the wooden blockade gave him an unexpected sight, as stood before him was the image of a pink-haired dragonslayer staring up at him. Natsu was near naked as it were, dressed only in a covering rag and brown filth, Laxus blinked. It was not uncommon to see the her disheveled, yet he could not say he had ever had a glimpse of her in such a state himself, for under appearance, Natsu looked to be dealing with their comrade's deaths far worse then he himself was.

"Uh, hi Laxus, look, I was just hoping- wondering, if you might wanna fight or do something? You know, to take your mind off of everything?" It was the first time the lightning man had seen the girl before him ever be hesitant towards anything, her eyes were cast down and though she wasn't clutching herself or twisting her foot with nerves, she was quite obviously tense.

"Do something?" As automatic, his arms crossed, and though small, an amusement came forth at the unexpected and strange request. He gained a forceful, almost glare for the question. Even so, Laxus found his eyes narrowing at the lack of anger present in the action.

"Yeah! I don't care what- just something distracting." The tense posture dropped, and Natsu scratched at the back of her neck, a shallow sigh even escaping her. "My house is just real empty without Happy, and then when I think about Happy, I think about Carla, and then Wendy, and then Lisanna, Mira, Elfman- just, I wouldn't normally come to you obviously, but no one else really gets it." The explanation was quiet, almost desolate. And he understood it well enough, without any thought over the matter, the knowledge inside was something he knew well enough.

"Alright, sure." He didn't have much else to say over the matter, he just grabbed his coat from the hanger it rested on and stepped outside to join the -now- smiling dragonslayer in front of him. -He doubted Natsu capable of anything half-way between a smile or a frown, her face just never seemed to twist that way.- Even as a child, she had always behath a gay express unless truely serious.

The night wasn't cold, but the wind held a chill with it in a near taunt to their circumstance it seemed. But as it were, his muscles were unstrained by the burden he hiddenly held, and his goal remained not to detangle his own work in getting them to relax so much, so a brawl was outside acceptable.

He turnt down his gaze to the girl beside him, nary skipping beside with a type of jumping leep after she swayed her legs up, it was peculiar to witness. He felt, rather then directed the simper that came unto his face at the sight of such pleasant, comforting, joy. He doubted he himself appeared such an eager party in comparison to the pinket near bouncing beside him. He was walking with a firm stride, and had his hands were stuffed into his pockets, it felt somewhat strange, and the comparison he could draw was one he would rather not consider; that being his first date as an awkward pubescent.

It was a ridiculous comparison, Laxus could smack himself firmly without regret for thinking of it, as they were merely walking away from Magnolia to do something as distraction from their shared bane; not an actual date, still his face inflamed with the possibility.

They were at the outskirts of the town, when he came up with something suitable to distract battle-prone wizards such as himself and Natsu. He grasped the freely swinging elbow by him and tugged the other towards a site that had stood within the town since his father had been a child, since his grandfather's first marriage if he recalled correctly. It wasn't a wrestling locale or anything similar, but rather a field, a place for Fiore's national sport to showcase itself in pride. In specifics, the one he'd turned them onto was used back when his grandfather was a teen to host the national competition, something that occurred every year in great celebration and joy for the common civilian. Cities had entire teams to represent themselves, and though Laxus had never understood the sport, he did know how to play at least.

Naturally, it would just be the two of them, so the game would need to change, but it had occurred that the sport was calm enough to keep him relaxed and fun enough to keep Natsu -and himself- distracted from their continual bane. Though in deeper thought, he did somewhat laugh at the thought of Natsu being any good with a bow-and-arrow, but it was possible enough that Laxus looked forward to the challenge.

"Laxus?" He shoved them both into the field and picked at the scattered equipment in the -previously locked- lockers. "The hell are you planning you jerk?!" Perhaps it was the familiar atmosphere that a caused a chuckle to escape him, or something else, he did not know, and he didn't think on it as he passed the grumbling pinket a bow.

"Bet you know how to use one of these right?" It was a slight mockery, because if Natsu was secretly a posh torry who'd lived a life of luxury as her old companion had, then she wouldn't know anything about hunting instincts or the dynamics of archery. The rich simply did not accept archery as a sport in Fiore, but if she were a woman of the wild then she would certainly know how to hunt and likely, how to use an arrow. By the glare he received, and how it was snatched fiercely from his hand, Laxus would make a bet on the latter.

It was an odd wonderance to cross his mind as Laxus watched her shoot each target near as accurate as Bisca with a sniping scope: But Laxus found himself wondering if any of the guild even remembered she was a woman at all, given that the girl regularly showed off her near absent tits and never wore makeup or perfume, he doubted they did.

Embarrassingly enough, with an enflamed face of much to emboldened red, Laxus wondered that if whence she was out of her teens Natsu would actually gain mass to the previously mentioned breasts she showcased, he doubted he'd see if she did regardless.

He focused his orange gaze to the targets she shot, and rather avidly avoided the consideration, and strayed his gaze quite purposefully away from the girl in front of him, and her chest.

* * *

To be mild, it was a slow day.

Rather, it had been a slow couple of weeks, and many members had been taking to whispering among each other about finding a new guild for work. As Fairy Tail became less dependable with the disappearance of their more powerful -and known- members, the townsfolk began to put their faith within the more impressionable wizard guilds that had started to crop up within Magnolia. Three months since Tenrou Island had been irradicated and the status of the once most powerful Wizard Guild of Fiore had decreased drastically. Hardly retaining a ranking as their most prominent members had been in a state of mourning for near as long, only just beginning to force themselves into taking requests once more, indeed most of them were strategists not combat focused.

Laxus had been hesitantly allowed to aid the guild, under his own request, with no small amount of suspicion and detesting stares thrown his way in the process. Laxus knew he had only been accepted because of the difficulty faced financially by the guild, and by that same route the well known power as a wizard which would attract requests unto the guild. Laxus knew he was being used mainly to draw in money, as bait. Yet, under the circumstance of his own failure, the disgraced man couldn't say he minded the unintended blow to his pride; in his eyes he hardly had any left anymore.

As it was he kept to himself while under the company of his 'former guildmates.' Uncomfortable with their familiar company as it were. Thus, his gaze was usually drawn to the battered table he choose for the day or at the mug of ale he bought each afternoon. Mainly sitting under a frequent contemplation, and a self maintained shame, wondering; what exactly his personality priour to the events of the Harvest Festival would've thought of the current situation: he then took a sip of his drink everytime it crossed his mind, acknowledging the ragid the truth of his own personality.

It was only two months within this continual state of depression that Natsu came back, appearing less strained after whatever long job she'd taken. Still, she didn't shout out her return, or challenge someone to a brawl, she plastered on a small grin, threw her gaze over to where Laxus sat, and marched in the lightning mage's direction with intent. Then, as only normal the fire mage slammed her hands down on the tableside directly opposed to the former S-class, and leaned her torso over the wood just a little and stared.

Laxus noticed, up close from his peripheral vision, and with a snort bellowing out his own nose at the oblivious realization -all the while maintaining his own stare, in challenge.- Natsu's hands were shaking; just as they had been since the dragonslayer had heard about her friends deaths, still shaking two months later -just as his own were. Muscles were twitching in her arms as well, making it appear as the fire mage were preparing for a fight or, as if she was with holding a hard held restraint of a violent action she knew was wrong, Laxus couldn't name it himself; but he could empathize, feeling as his coat shifted once more around his shoulders.

"What'cha want?" He asked, not mentioning the barely quaking hands in front of him; knowing it'd only retain him a punch to the cheek in denial, a hit he'd rather avoid while grieving. Even so, his voice came out less irate then it had under similar situations in the past, he hardly came to notice it however.

"Ya' wanna go on a job?" Being under Natsu's particular accent, the question came out as a demand rather then a request.

"Didn't you just get back from one?" He got a glare and a finger nearly on his nose.

"So?! It was boring! And going alone is-" With a yell, Natsu's hands threw up into the air and her foot loudly crashed into the ground in a stomp almost echoing around the hall. "-Annoying!" Grey eyes -in the light- snapped into orange ones, the balled fists of the fire dragonslayer fell to her sides, near lax.

Laxus stared at the girl before him, his own gaze sharpening in frustration as understanding befell him, he sighed. He empathized -somehow- with Natsu, he knew that the pinkett had never properly dealt with such cascading, conflicting, emotions before. She had, but Natsu was refusing to take refuge with Igneel's memory. So even while his own protests rang in his head; he picked his head up from the sigh stumbling through his throat and crossed his arms over the wood of the table.

"Fine, pick a job." She would just continue to demand if he didn't concede, not a thing he was in mood to deal with.


	2. Bound

The new guild hall held a quant, unthreatening, atmosphere upon it. The aura, though charming upon many, was baleful unto others -those who were accustomed to a continued presence of violence in particular.- Laxus was watching Natsu take her stance, attempting once more to distort everyone and thing with the distraction of emboldened brash violence and her familiar extroversion.

Six months after the events at Tenrou and the entire hall had managed to succumb to a pitiful desperation -depression, that bit into all of their finances and lost them their pride. Yet it still managed to remain, and Laxus counted that as somewhat of a win, Macou, had taken himself to the stance of master, in uncertainty. Laxus had watched as the man had taken the honour all while looking him in the eye and asking an invisible question, Laxus had shaken his head at the offer. The stain still scared his skin at the thought, it bit into his flesh the mere consideration of his own plausible corruption unto his family ever further were he to be Master.

Laxus took a drink; it had only been half a year and yet, they -as a guild- had been weakened so far that the council had taken away their hall to be 'governmental property.' They had also become a laughing stalk of the magic community as their guild became so poorly regarded that d-rank jobs had became a slight hassle to most of their remaining members. Laxus took a sip from his mug, as he recalled with a gile upon himself back when he had wondered down the Magnolia roads hoping to change FairyTail's public appearance into something revered -not a laughing stock to those of magic. Now he sat on a wet bench snorting to himself at the considerations he'd had. He'd been offered the position he had ever coveted and turned it away with a glaring eye.

The lightning mage once more took a glimpse towards the pinket- now sitting, pouting, at the pitiful excuse of a bar they now had.

It seemed to be both an extreme stroke of luck and a horrible reminder; that both he and Natsu had survived the destruction of Tenrou island. Because egotistical or not, Laxus could recognize that himself and his fellow dragonslayer were the most powerful wizards currently standing within Fairytail, and as a result, were the partial reason why the guildhall got any requests at all anymore. They served as bait unto the community, for those who knew of their reputations within the town or outside still came to the guild once they knew some powerful combat specialists remained.

It was ireful -gile made- however, to witness those you've known for over five years in a slump of grievance; because of your own failure to cast a simplistic spell. Beguiling, to see his long held guildmates, sit about and do nothing. To watch, as Natsu; Someone with so much exuberance for life and its pleasantries slouch over a table and do nothing, merely sit within her own incompassing silence with her head in her arms.

Every Time he saw the sights about him, Laxus shifted around the crushing weight which emerged upon his chest, and attempted to restrain any similar feelings at his eyes. His hands would shake were they not gripping their opposing arms, his teeth ground against each other and a glare had formed instead of the tears that threatened to fall. He glared unto the table, unto the ground, onto the walls, he hardly did anything else whilst sitting in the hall anymore.

"Laxus?" He twitched minutely, breaking from aberrant thoughts, looking towards Alzak who was staring at him with a concerned glance and slight fear, while Bisca beside was semi doing the same while also managing a glare. "You… alright?" It was spoken quiet, and were he the same man he had been nye a year ago; he would be laughing at the man for the obvious fear he pertained.

Though, the lone Dreyar could not think of a proper response. Moreof just set down his ale look sidewards at the couple, sighed, and slouched into himself over the wood with his elbows resting and still clutching himself with his clenching hands, whispering out "are you?" That was all he could manage, though the question within itself brought a burning ire into his chest as a reminder of his own failure at the island.

With an instinct he could not name -perhaps the want for accompaniance, he stood quickly and wondered over to sit by Natsu. Now, as she attempted to engage Wakaba in a scuffle which presented a clear winner to anyone foolish enough to bet.

At another dimly made refusal, half shouted through a cigarette the fire mage gave up. Crossed her arms with a furrow in her brow and sat on the floor -not the bench- on the floor directly in front of where Laxus had positioned himself frontwards to watch the previous, slight, show. Grumbling spilling from a pouting mouth, "I'm not good with change, this is too much, I don't like it." The way Natsu said the words were hardly angered or irate, and unusually spoken. Laxus found it strange from a girl such as Natsu to sound destitute. For a moment, the inclination crossed him to say something which may have resembled a comfort from an older guild member, a comrade, family -should he still hold such a ranking-, but his words dried in his mouth as he took a sip of his drink and turnt his head to look towards the half-rotten wall nearby -that is, glare at; rather then at the pinket looking upwards at him with curiously emotioned black eyes, kneeled on the floor beside his legs.

* * *

Simplistic, evenly reasoned, and casually finished. Their job had been made by a citizen whom had little money to spare and a worry infiltrating her heart which she needed to be cleared. A woman whom had worked as a farmer who had been plagued by a cult -encampment rather, of bandits, who were surrounding her lands and threatening to kill her animals for hunt. She'd paid FairyTail a D-rank job offer to be rid of the problem for her as they had been the nearest magic guild she could afford. Gratitude had steered her words afterwards, and she had grinned brightly towards the both of them in the aftermath. Natsu had been happy at the kind demeanour and even unbothered by the easily managed job during their walk to Magnolia, even skipping in slight.

Laxus had been bored.

It weren't that he stood ungrateful of the work, it was merely that his experience had long since outstretched the casual dealings of low ranked dabbles in magic. However, as he had been uncaringly punching his foes he'd come to realize upon himself that the bandit's he had simply kicked away had been somewhat powerful mages -to a practitioner's extent- and those remaining within his guild would have been hard-pressed to manage them alone. He wondered, barely, who they were.

Walking down the dirt road, Natsu stopped with a shock a jerk in her movements and a growl at the back of her throat. Laxus raised an eyebrow at her expression twisted in fury, only to find the reasoning whence looking forward. Finding several white knights approaching with their usual stoic express and firmly maintained decorum, in a minute movement, Laxus could fathom he saw a slight twitch of their leader's brow. Lahar, he believed, with his glasses and pious hairstyling.

"Laxus Dreyar." The other's behind him moved to stance, and Laxus felt a shiver course through his spine at the readying stances they began to take. He himself said nothing though, just waited for some type of bomb to drop. It came swiftly.

"You are under charge for infraction against the town of Magnolia, the suspect of murder of several persons including respected Wizard Saint Makarov Dreyar, suspected collusion with the dark guild 'raventail' It will be an easier path for all of us if you come in silence and accept your charge with some dignity. Under that banner, you will not have trial, as you have already been found guilty -with many witness- for your first offense and have been marked as a danger unto the Kingdom of Fiore by the King himself as result. You will have your magic bound." His eyes clasped shut as the weight steadily building within him came to bursting in comprehension, it had been an inevitable charge, he'd known it would occur, the pain still hit him fiercely. He heard Natsu give a great snarl, and felt the pebbles land on his boots as she attacked the knights, listened; as they temporarily bound her, felt the magic tendrils in the ground keeping her in place. The sight was a sad one whence he finally regarded, her short pink hair was somehow whipping around her and her eyes were wild as if faral, her face was contorted into a scowl worthy of a dark wizard -worthy of him, he supposed. She was knelt on the ground and he could see her muscles heaving to break free. It was a way he'd never expected to witness her, of all mages, to be caged. It made him smile a little to know she would attempt to save him.

Within himself, he could find the acknowledgement of minor injustice; yet his words said nothing in protest to the accusations. Merely he blinked in regard towards the knights staring upon him; awaiting protest. Feeling as it were had been near-incomprehensible since his family had fallen to the light of a vengeful dragon; to look at Natsu the rage she displayed furthered a curiosity he had never imagined himself to harbour: for he found himself wondering what such ire would feel like once again within himself as an emotion. She looked upon him with such an express in her fathomless eyes, that Laxus, without words, knew she could understand his own desolation. However, her struggle only renewed thereon.

Lahar, by his own wisdom of experience, took to binding his captive's arms regardless of his own apparent surrender, it gave Laxus little pause, and he merely bent to kneel on the dirt below. Three knights pointed jagged spared upon him then, each with differing tips; bound though he became by wisps of brightened magic the lightning mage made no protest.

With not a word; instead under the order of snapping fingers, the first ritual wizard twirled her staff circular: and in turn a clasping sensation bound his neck, the feeling of a rock down his throat was harsh; yet only near painful, his lips did clamp shut then. Then, in the same methodology, the next spun their staff as if in an eternal symbol: it came to burn as if drenched in flame, whilst ice ate at the inside of his body fire scorched his skin his back arched in repulse to the action, as his lacrima heaved at the binding; all the magic it possessed pouring back into its crystal rather then coursing through his veins; then he felt the old familiar burn of his born magic surge through his blood once more; as if in vengeance for the crime of its blocking, even the soles of his feet became sore. In finally, one last snap of delicate fingers came, and though tired orange iris looked upwards in exhaustion to the barrier mage, they took not a moment, merely made the formation of a rune upon him to uphold his binding; then he collapsed unto the dirt, the pebbles now digging into his fragile skin and grating at his burning marks.


	3. Silence In Stoicism

It had taken weeks for him to come to waking, he had been collapsed on Polyusca’s bedside for fourteen days before his eyes had fluttered briefly. Only for a scream to strike the air and his back to burn in a blinding white light; as he had been told, he drew himself to believing the words, for by what he saw from her explanation, Natsu had appeared a wary woman about him, as if uncertain of his intentions. It puzzled at his mind as a challenge to comprehend, even so, she still lingered about him as if in a comforting presence, for herself -or himself, he did not attempt to distinguish. It was an odd rarity about the remnants of the guildhall  _ not  _ to see a pinkened blossom likened hair beside his own towering figure, her shortened stature tilted away from him as if he harnessed plague; although she never truly left his side. Laxus made no complaint, for in candour unto himself, all the presence she maintained filled the empty loneliness he had harboured since having been banished. 

Natsu had taken to maintaining a near continual glare upon him, not upwards for the glance would merely hurt her neck in the consistent strain, but at his abdomen, as if he had eaten something she disagreed with. Greyed irises staring upon him in a monitorance he largely ignored; yet could not understand the reasoning for was beginning to ware at his patience -though as expected no anger arose. 

It was whilst sitting on a too small stool at the shortened ill maintained bar, did he realize a factor of himself he had yet to contemplate. His hand had been wrapped lose around a tankard, he could hardly feel the brush of glass at his skin, near him at the table behind Natsu was attempting to brighten the aura of their decrepit guild by making a joke with Bisca. As he took a sip of the amber liquid awaiting him, a scoff escaped him through his nose as the stale understanding that with Natsu continuously following him, he normally would have been irate. He hadn’t been so far, even with her continual presence; that which had become so consistent she had near begun to live with him in his spacious apartment rather then her own -she had exclaimed upon first coming in that it had been ‘bigger and better then Lucy’s,’ he had not said anything unto her revelation for he hadn’t cared, and merely maintained his silence as he’d sat as his couch in mental fatigue.- He was only now coming to understand that if he were of full health such a thing would never have occured, he would have tossed her out by the ear and said something unflattering onto her persona. 

Without thought, his free hand brushed at the small of his back,and his mind pondered if his lack of magic was the cause of his behaviour. Yet, logic came in emotion’s place to remind him in idle thought: that he had been subservient whence the White Knights had cast his sentence, he had been inexpressive whilst working at his jobs, he hadn’t minded Natsu’s resolute presence: all things that had his emotion’s been active he would have certainly held issue with. By his own rationality, he knew that witnessing his family’s deaths would effect him immensely, especially after having been away for so long, he was certainly traumatized; and he knew this without a denial in mind. Even so, he had not expected to lose his ability to harbour feelings, he rubbed his face with his hands and pondered that if he had felt anything at the time, if he would have allowed the Knights to bind his magic and voice, or if he would have fought against their ideals: yet despite his newfound logical mentality no answer came forthwith.

Orange eyes glimpsed backward, towards the pinkette armwrestling with Wakaba with a resolute express. It was then that she turned to look at him in turn, a scowl upturned her lip in response, a glare blazed the fire beneath the colour in her irises as a reddened hue glimmered at her cheeks in anger towards him: near nothing came to him in return, but the enlightened brush of amusement flickered in the depths of him, unreachable to whatever within brought forth feelings to the mind, blockaded. Once more, his fingers touched at his tailbone, wondering if the lacrima now uselessly sitting there was responsible for blocking his emotions now rather then the forbidden magic he held within. His focus rested at his tankard again, wishing for his grandfather’s jibes to belittle him whilst in a drunken stupor. However, no feeling came to him at the understanding that he was gone, not a grazing of remorse, a pressure of depression, or a wisp of hopeful optimism. 

A pale arm impeded his vision, leaning into his space, and he looked upward to Macou looking fully intergrained into the part of barman, as he allowed his stubble to grow out. Something akin to a smile rested upon him, sympathetic in nature; Laxus recognized. Though nothing was voiced by the man or by himself -naturally- as the seconds ticked by, merely a discomforting silence as neither stereotypical male had want to do anything in acknowledgement to the new burden the lightning mage held. In finality however, with his voice still in tact, the violet-haired veteran spoke in place of the young adult across from him. 

“Natsu told us what happened.” Was his beginning, and Laxus merely blinked at him in response, he had expected her to spill the circumstance to their guildmates while he had been comatose, it held no surprise to him. “I’ve known a few guys, ages ago, who were bound by the knights, we don’t really talk anymore-” he paused as if remorseful and coughed into his hand at the mistaken wording. “-Well, obviously, you know what I mean. What I’m sayin, is that they were, are, I suppose, in the same situation as you. They learnt sign-language to keep talking, I did as well, granted it was ten years ago so I’m pretty out of practise myself, but its worth a shot you know? Sitting around doing and saying nothing is all well and good for a bit, but its lonely Laxus, you’re in a tough situation I know, still you’re the only one who can get yourself out of it.” That brought a sigh out of him in recognition, and though it was childish in method, his eyes rolled at the suggestion. Even so, the man across from him only laughed in good humour for the petty response, he rarely jested about with his comrades, perhaps it was a refreshing sight unto him, Laxus could not fathom to know. Still, the idea came to his ears as if his grandfather had spoken it in irritation for his own stagnant nature. 

As best indication of his own agreement to the suggestion, he waves his hand about, then turned once again to witness Natsu’s own self cheering as she lightly mocked Wakaba’s weak arm. It was an absent consideration, entirely within the privy of his own deeper thoughts, but he admitted to himself a enjoyment of her brightened demeanour especially in comparison with his own stoicism. 

Vaguely, rationality kicked within him once again in ponderance of wether or not he should simply ask the girl if she’d like to move in with him; for her sleeping upon his couch near every night was beginning to become an irritant, and if she did, he could drag out the extra mattress he had in storage for her to sleep on, rather then be worrying of sitting on her in his morning drowsy delirium. He gave a futile ‘tsk’ unto himself at the thought, though his own logic overruled, and he stood up, walked to her. He grasped at the paper and pen in his pocket, he wrote messily on his palm and handed her the scrap with a minor scowl in place as she snatched it from his fingers, he did not attempt to hide the eyeroll he did at her predictable ire. Yet, his eyebrows raised in a mild surprise as her cheeks alit once more, pinkened this time with the fragile emotion of embarrassment rather then the flush of anger he’d been expecting. She looked him dead in the eye then, a pout forming as her eyelids narrowed in thought, but then she lifted her chin in a prideful, almost snod expression likened to those of the upper class as she scoffed in his general direction before turning on her heal and her back faced him whilst she crossed her arms. 

“Fine, I suppose, if you’re that desperate for my company!” Then she marched straight out of the hall, with stomping feet and clasped fists. Laxus stared after her as the door slammed shut and rocked the wooden supports with her force; she’d taken his paper scrap with her in her departure. Though he had no explanation for her behaviour, any thoughts he would have made were interrupted by the painful throbbing echoing in his shoulderblades and he hissed to the sensation; recognizing it as for what his father had so briefly warned him of in his youth. A groan escaped him for the comprehension of his mother’s magic beginning to reassert itself in his body, and wished once more for his grandfather’s sudden appearance or, in betterment, for his lacrima to work once again to blockade it with familiar lightning magic. Uselessly, his scratched at the itch forming, but it only serviced to increase the pain and the sensitive skin burnt more at his rough touch. 

A shaken sigh left him, as he paid his fee to the bar, and exited the decrepit guild to return to a silent apartment. His mind changed however, while waking the chattering streets, he found himself at the bookstore with a shrug of his shoulder’s -despite their continual pain- and entered whilst slightly bending down as to not hit his head on the doorframe; which was peculiar, as he could recall never having to do so in previous, yet another shrug rocked his shoulders however, not a considerance coming to him in spite of the oddity. Following the master’s advice, he sought out a ragged hardcover for learners of sign-language and bought it with the spare change he had in his coat, the woman at the counter gave him a soft smile, but she said nothing for his choice, and he left the shop with the impression of a judging stare at his back. 

He walked up the steps of his apartment to see a head of pink outside his door, he had no questions for who it was, though he hadn’t expected her to show up. In reaching the threshold, he did question however, the expression she bore, once again she was pouting and her eyes were staring at the railing rather then at him. Pink coloured her cheeks in uncertainty, a travel bag was slung around her shoulder, and her fingers played with the cord. “Ah, I got here and realized I don’t exactly have a key.” She explained, though he still wondered at her embarrassment, her own obtuse nature was commonality she was rarely taken to bashful express from it, so he knew something else was the cause for her flushed cheeks and her wondering gaze. Though he could say nothing upon it, though he near did, opened his mouth to speak in turn, but no sound escaped him at the attempt: that was when her grey, glimmering, ash toned eyes stared up at him once more, not a glare within them unlike her recent ire showcased; instead she blinked up at him in confusion widened eyelids and compassion shone in her expression, in a complete shift from her previous anger at the guild and her more recent blushing embarrassment. 

Laxus clutched his hand at his throat, silently demeaning himself for the foolish action even whilst he knew it would be for not. His own gaze met with the rail, a tinge of frustration welling within; but unfortunately, it was not enough to be considered a true ire .  In that time, Natsu had walked up to him, the closest she had gotten since his collapse, the hand not clutching at her bag outreaching towards him in hesitation. Her head tilted in an innocent confusion he well recognized from her, her fingers brushed against his own at his throat, her voice stuttered and she bit at her lip before saying anything. “Laxus… can you not… speak?” He felt the amused smirk curve his features, though hardly any amusement found him, it tingled beneath the surface of his mind for a reasoning he could not name. He looked to the railing rather then the misplaced concern shining within her gaze, for he did not wish to see the care she always harboured facing  _ him of all people.  _ He shook his head, then removed the hand clasping at his neck to showcase the circular rune at his throat. He watched as a fierce scowl appeared on her, he watched her teeth grind together, before her gentle fingers turned into a fist and she punched at the nearby wall with a strong might he’d only ever witnessed on her while fighting. A shout left her then “those jerks!” Realization had seemingly dawned on her where it hadn’t previously, but Laxus had nothing to say for her anger. 

Instead he took the key in his pocket and opened the door with a forced sigh, then he ushered her inside as well with less then gentle hands. She made no protest, as the glare on her face did not falter, she made no protest for her anger burned brighter then any ire she could manage towards him for his pushing hands. Laxus did nothing for it however, merely allowed her to simmer, and watched absently as he hung his coat on the hanger at the door, as he took his heavy boots off, and rested his key inside the small bowl on the counter, placing the book he’d bought beside. In socks, he glimpsed to her pacing figure as he wondered into the kitchen for the food he’d freshly stocked the other day to make a plain dinner that might suit them both. He had no judgement to voice upon her as she finally flopped onto the couch with a small jump and crossed arms in an invisible protest, though he had no voice to make a judgement with, even if he had the care to do so.

He was cutting green onions when he heard her get up, and make her way over, but to glimpse, he saw her pick up the book he’d just bought and stare at it with curiosity. Not a fraction of the previous annoyance she’d only just harboured displayed upon her heart-shaped face. She said nothing to him, simply opened it up and flickered her eyes over the contents, he made no attempt to stop her. Though he did turn on the stove and sauced up the meat he already had defrosting nearby, she was quiet leaning on the counter beside him, her fingers were careful as she flicked to the next page; she appeared contemplative, and he wondered at her thinking expression, if she’d made it several times before when learning with her father. He made no comment unto it, and merely began to make the rice turning on the idle -prefilled- kettle as he did so. 

In pouring the tea-leafs into the pot, he took notice as she placed the book down, open, and began to copy the signs within the margins very slowly. It was hesitant, but grey eyes flickered to him twice before she smiled as gentle as a chaotic woman such as her could. “Well, I should know it too, if you can only speak like this.” Came her rationed explanation, though Laxus hadn’t considered it himself. The food was cooking peacefully, and he found himself instead of astraying to his storage watching her as she learnt: A smile upturned her face, her eyes glared with slight strain lines at their sides as she examined the pictures and motions displayed before her, delicate -yet scared- fingers tracing the movements upon herself as she copied. Without thought to the action, his eyes followed as her fingers made motions at her nearly bare chest, they were smooth actions and mesmerizing to watch, he made no protest as one motion had her fingers upturning her vest to nearly reveal her small breast. However, once he realized himself, he did snap his gaze away to the boiling rice, a scowl had set upon his features then; for although no sensation chastised him, he knew he should be ashamed of his lude actions. For not the first time in his maddening life, he wished she would wear a shirt or bind her chest as some form of concealment: Then he wondered to himself -as he absently drained the pot- if he wished that for all onlookers, or merely for his own sake. No emotion came to him at the thought, yet he still felt the flush of shame reddening his cheeks.

Within the bounds of his own ponderance, he glanced at her once more, her motions were continuing. He ignored them, and though he knew she was oblivious to her own seductive dressing, he did question why she only ever wore trousers and a vest; never a shirt to cover herself, never shoes to protect her feet, and as it appeared to his slightly wandering gaze, to his knowledge she had never worn a bra either. In his teenage years, when she had been but a child, he had considered the possibility that her father had been a marginal naturalist, as she had said she had lived in caved and never a house, but he had slowly dismissed that as they grew: Now he questioned on whether or not he had been correct in his presumption, at least somewhat on the mark. His eyes once more strayed to her chest, she was making no motions there as it were, but her hands still danced in front of her breasts. He scoffed at himself; and spoke mentally in repremend that he was acting as a licentious man, those types he had previously found a deepened hatred for. Laxus did count himself in luck however, that her ashen gaze remained firm on the pages, and she did not look to see his wandering gaze.

He grabbed at the plates in the cupboard, making a firm resolution onto himself that he would not gaze at her like a lustful priest while she lived in his -their- home. For, he was not so undignified as to bow to the primal urges of his body. He brought the plates to the table, and bumped her shoulder lightly as he did so, to gain her attention. She turned from the book then with a large grin blossoming on her face, and he grabbed the book to read for himself whilst he ate. He did however, watch as she sat in discomfort at the chair across from him to eat, then shook his head in recognition as she ignored the utensils before her and shoved food into her mouth with her hands. He choose then to read the book in front of him, and pretended that his eyes only glanced at her to make certain she wasn’t choking.


	4. Her Comforting Acknowledgment

As was normal for one practised in obtaining fast knowledge, Laxus learnt the methodology of sign-language within a week of obtaining the book. To his own surprise, Natsu had kept at his pace in turn, and he often found her practising the signs in the early morning at bed, she would cast him a smile every time he walked into the living room to see her laying on her mattress near the couch and waving her hands in fast succession. Her rose hair spread out over a thin pillow and she would turn to look at him as she did so, appearing entirely relaxed with her situation. 

On rare occasion however, he would wake before her, and find her sleeping curled into a ball of sheets lightly snoring with drool running down her face, her hair entirely static rather then laying calm against the pillow; he did question if she attempted to make it presentable before he entered once he first saw its ragged state. When he woke before her, he would go to the kitchen and wake her incidentally with the ripe smells of breakfast cooking, she sprung up with a twitching nose and sniffing sounds as if she were a canine every time. Were she capable, Laxus was certain her ears would be perked upwards as a dog’s as well. That was also how he found out she normally slept naked. They developed a routine then, to wake, then he would cook and they would eat at the counter, before slowly practising signs to each other. Laxus did acknowledge after a few days that she could simply speak to him as normality dedicated if she so wished, yet she didn’t. In true peculiar Natsu fashion, she continued to use hand-signs with him in the mornings and evenings, and only verbally spoke whence they entered the guildhall. 

In his only express of gratitude, he smiled at her in the mornings as thanks, she merely appeared confused at his action everytime, then she waved away his appreciation before bounding out of their apartment. Every morning he counted the moments until she returned. This morning he found himself reaching ten before she slammed the door open once more to grasp her copy of the apartment key -which had a tacky image of flames climbing up a black background.- Then she laughed to herself and ran out once more. 

As it were, he had been mostly avoiding the hall, discomforted by the pitying glances he gained from his silence and lacking magic. Rather going through his storage to find his old practise sword and armour from when his father had taught him as a pre-teen, it had been many years yonder, and he doubted that they would continue to suit him well as a grown man, but at least he might recall what type of blade he had preferred, then find something more suitable at the shops later. 

He had found arm braces, and a chest plate deep within the closet, the sword -as he expected, was much too minuscule for his taller frame, but he did find that it was a simple one handed shaft, and he could recognize the type of blade, he hadn’t expected to hold out a shield in addition to the blade; still the memories of each item did come to him as he took them from the box. Though it was idle sorting for the most part, his fingers had drifted onto the old cloth at the bottom of the box that his mother had once used to cover herself and the markings upon it: He only ever recalled her with sour and infractious, dour, memories, yet as he gripped the cloth his other hand traced the mark of his native tattooing at his shoulder and chest; that being the only piece of his native fiorian heritage he had allowed himself after she’d left: For despite his newly lacking feeling, he knew he still hated the woman, Laxus knew he could not harbour the feeling in truth, but the ire still remained for the curse she had both been and inflicted upon his life; it was the one opinion, he, his father, and his grandfather shared an absolute agreement upon. Even so, he pondered on whether or not he should have his mark finished in respect for his heritage, as there were so few native persons left in the land, it would be only ricious.

The cloth found itself thrown in the trash in his discardment of his mother’s turbulent memory, but he did make a note to himself to look into getting his tattoo finished. He touched at his hair then, as he had been allowing it to grow out to its natural length, it now rested at hi ribs and it had been braided back -albeit, messily, by his own unpractised hands. The look was a new one for him, as when he had been raised by his grandfather lengthened hair had always served to remind him of the woman he’d despised. Though now he grew it as if in a grievance to his own lack of mourning for his family’s undue deaths. Natsu had made comment at it the week previous, and whence he had told her through slightly incorrect signing, she had declared her own want to grow out her own hair -for she never had before: although already it was much longer then he had ever witnessed it to be below her shoulders, it also apparently stuck up and held a slight -soft- wave to it when lengthened beyond the nape of her neck. He never signed to her that he considered her long hair well suited in accompaniance with her slight frame, nor did he sign that the wave it held was nice along with her natural spiked locks.

While the sword was much too small for his hands and the blade to short it resembled more a dagger, Laxus did still find himself carrying it up the hill to the limited space of the guild’s practise grounds. The cloth and wood dummies there would service little, but they were strong enough to meet with his attacks for a short while before breaking. It weren’t as if the sword he presently wielded could take the true blunt force of his strength as it were, but it would be suitable to recall the swordplay he’d learnt as a child. The training area was vacant, as expected with so few combat experts in their guild presently, yet still his movements were cautious, and irritatingly unbalanced, he found himself tripping over his own footing with a simplistic sweep of his blade arm, it occurred near three times before in measuring himself next to a dummy he found himself a slight taller then he remembered, he stood far higher then the head of the figurine, and by his own inaccurate math, he knew he was far taller then the six-foot-three he had been priour to Tenrou Island’s downfall. His orange glare stared down at the cloth head below him and his eyes narrowed in thought: though he quickly sighed instead as his hand once more absently reached to the small of his back, logic coming upon him once more; as recollection filled in the blanks in his mind; his mother had been six-foot-seven due to her rare magic, he could only imagine that he now grew for the same reasoning. He threw the sword down into the dirt below as one would a throwing dagger, were he capable frustration would have welled within his chest, being his previous height had been an iratance enough as it were, he could only imagine that to grow further would only serve to be more of an annoyance. 

He reminded himself, without cause, that he hated his mother. 

“What are you so angry at?” Natsu’s voice echoed behind him, and it almost surprised him to find that the tones of her voice were a relief to his ears. As it was he had gotten somewhat accustomed to her silence, which was odd in itself when referring to Natsu. He looked at her, not an expression in place, he had no emotion or flicker of sensation to give his features, though she had no such qualm; for a smirk rested upon her as if carved there as art by Retus, her eyes were turned upwards and she seemed audaciously pleased, he raised his eyebrows at the look for he could fathom no reasoning as to why she would bare such an expression. She shimmied a little in place, appearing as if she was resisting the urge to dance, that, he furrowed his brows at her, the behaviour puzzling him. Though she offered no explanation, even whence she grasped his hand and pulled him with slight strength across the flattening grass to the low cast door frame of the hall. Smirk gone, she was grinning in a gay pride, embrightened by the shine the sun cast over her rosened hair and made sparkle within her ashen-toned irises. Laxus made an attempt to stray his eyes but they glanced to her freely shown cream coloured skin, finding that within the rays of the sun it too glimmered with the slight sweat upon her figure, and though his emotions were near entirely lost, he still felt his cheeks redden at the thoughts which intruded his mind in primal, lude, considerations.

He ducked as she forcefully drug him within the room, his head very close to smacking into the small door, he did take a vacant notice that she had used both her hands to grasp one of his. However, that concerning revelation left once he took notice of his surroundings, everyone was gazing at him, each wearing a solemn smile, and then slowly as he looked around, suddenly wishing to be somewhere else: Alzak raised his hands and began signing a simple hello, followed by Bisca as she signed his name, then Locki, Wakaba, and Macou each signing slowly but certainly sign-language. It forced his gaze to the woman who was bashfully kicking the floor with her bare feet, and despite her own apparent want, she looked to him in turn an embarrassed flush staining her cheeks while she played with her hair idley. “Well, I figured, everyone should know what you're saying right? So… I taught them what I could... with some help from Macou of course!” A flicker of something came to resonate with him, far stronger then any lingering sensation he’d had so far, and a smile found him then. It was amusement that brought it forth, grateful for her consideration as her personality remained so innocently caring, a slight blossom of happiness came forward in his chest as if abstracted as he realized why she’d made the effort: Just to teach the entire remnants of their guild sign-language merely so that he might speak to everyone in the family, regardless of the fact that he hardly attempted to speak to anyone anymore; she hadn’t wanted him to feel alone. 

Once more, he smiled at her, but this time, he signed a slow **‘** ** _thank you’_** alongside it. 

A simper rested at her expression in response, and while her foot still shuffled along the floor as if in nerves, her arms forcefully crossed below her chest in a type of resolution he now recognized. Her gaze also sharply cast away from him in a denial he knew she did not truly mean. “Yeah well! Its just useful jerkface!” Then she stomped away, to do what, he was not certain, but it was a common enough occurrence with her brash personality that he had grown accustomed to it, and he did not question the action.

With an assurance he did not possess, he sat beside the green-haired sniper nearest to him, Alzak was at her side as well; ever so slowly he attempted a conversation, they were slow in response, though they appeared to comprehend what he was saying in turn. As a first turn of conversation he began with, normality, a plain sentence that anyone would ask verbally. 

_** “ How have you two been?”  ** _ They did glance at each other as if coming to full understanding that he was indeed speaking to both of them. Then turned back to him with the same kind expressions they so often bore towards everyone. 

Signing: **“Sad, but trying to get past it by focusing on each other. I finally asked him out.”** Bisca grinned in pride, while her boyfriend only seemed confused by her signing, Laxus assumed he was slightly less advanced then she was. Still Laxus nodded at her words, he had known, as most within the hall that both the gun-magicians would eventually get together, and he smirked at them both in turn as he responded.

**_“About time.”_ ** She blushed slightly at his response, and her hand rubbed at her neck, but she made no attempt to argue at his teasing. She shook herself away from the embarrassment it appeared, as a coy smile came upon her. 

Laxus awaited for her to make a mocking retort. **“** ** I heard you and Natsu are living together?”  ** It was hardly a question by lack of sign, she had meant it as a statement, and in turn Laxus rolled his eyes at the obvious implication of guild-type gossip.

_** “ Not like that.”  ** _ He responded.

She grinned at him mischievously. “Uh-huh, sure. That’s why she looked like she wanted to run out the hall when you thanked her.” She lay her hands flat on the table, obviously wanting to make normal conversation, and Laxus made no protest for the action, as he recognized not everyone would be as Natsu and speak to him in sign for the sake of comfort. She leant a slight bit closer to him, and whispered: “Maybe you should ask her out.” Yet another statement, but this time he only shook his head in denial for the prodding and made no attempt to sign his disagreement. She gave him a fierce look of disapproval, but made no argument and did not question his reasoning. 

He sat with his arms folded over the wood then, deeply ingrained in his thoughts as he considered the woman’s words. He pondered at the possibility; wondered at his own lacking of emotion, then he questioned himself as to why whenever flickering feelings arose within him they were always within the pinkette’s presence. 


	5. A Piano Man Kissing In The Snow

A month passed without incident, though Laxus did find himself more frequently spending time around the guildhall; as the atmosphere it provided became more comforting then unsettling, and the people were less intrusive in their worrying glances and instead actually attempted to speak to him in turn. Usually verbally, though he held no true protest, even if they could not fully comprehend his signed responses in turn; they made the attempt to. A simple familiarity had settled upon his shoulders at the small hall, and the routine normality of boring conversations surrounding him became a soothing atmosphere. However, as the ending of the month came upon him, his rent fast became due, and he had little change to fill the charge with, Laxus did look to the job board rather absently though his gaze strayed away from the chalk as he comprehended that all the papers strung up where for those with magic; and while he still pertained his mother’s genetic magic, he knew that using it would only serve to sicken him quicker. It was then that the man stood from his stool, -now bending ever-so-slightly to avoid the support beams, as he had grown to be nearly six-foot-ten and he was still growing as it were.- He signed a quick farewell to Macou, who gave him a questioning eye for a moment, but said nothing. Then, he exited the guild, the intent of a purpose following him for the first time in many absent months.

He was halted however by a small woman blocking his route out, her hands rested firm at her hips and a glare was harshly cast into his own curious orange gaze from ashen toned irises. The stance she formed in her own assurance of superiority harboured a beauty he did not commonly admit to seeing in anyone, she was firm in posture and though not a word was said in sign or in speech, Laxus understood the hidden message behind her stature. This, was what he did not comprehend and his arms crossed in conjunction of her actions, Natsu followed suit and her gaze hardened ever further to the sharpened ire she had normally reserved for fighting a certain ice-mage. Laxus briefly wondered if she would challenge him to a brawl, though he knew that was not her true intention. He sighed, and let his arms rest lose at his sides in waiting for her to acutely state her reasoning for interrupting his departure.

In opposition to her common disposition around him, she spoke rather then signing what she had to say her irritation obvious, though he did not fully comprehend why. “I know what you’re doing.” Exasperation rested on his visage at the words, and if he could have spoken his voice would have echoed with a sass which he hardly expressed to anyone but his team or grandfather.

“ ** _Oh and what is that?”_** It came as a question in his hands, but he truly did wonder if she knew his intention. For but a moment, she lost her assured posturing, though it returned by a force which Laxus recognized only as her pure, unbridaled, irrational, determined confidence. Somehow, she managed to display such reckless abandon with merely her body language.

“The royal military, you plan to enroll don’t you?” He tilted his head, almost unnerved by her accurate comprehension of his intention. Yet, for a reasoning he made no attempt to understand, the knowledge that she disapproved made lax his want to attempt. To know her opinion actually influenced his decision was an unnerving knowledge.

“ ** _Yes. Why?”_** He asked her instead of making her aware of his own invisible inner turmoil, hoping instead to receive an answer of ignorance so that he might go on his way without the pressure of her displeasure resting at his back. Managing to craft a slight glare of his own down towards her.

“You don’t need to. I can earn enough for both of us, you know.” Something bashful came over her normally angered express, and it gave him pause in his own actions for but a moment. He delayed at her admittance of understanding to their situation, whilst he knew she was not entirely incorrect, Laxus also knew that Natsu earning a living for two people with only D-ranked jobs to gain from was nye impossible, furthermore; whatever morale he pertained, declined the offer with a feverance he rarely felt. There, instead of making a sweetened comforting sentence with gentle words and calming motions, he breathed something deeply within himself to affirm his own actions with himself; then glowered down at the small woman with the glare of a man irate at the world.

His hands signed a simplistic “ ** _no.”_** With nothing else to add, for Laxus knew the pinkette well enough to know she would make a force argument that neither of them would win. And instead they would merely come to dancing in circles until they both ended up at the bar drinking and ignoring the others presence with a forceful scowl whenever the other happened to glance in their direction. That was why in spite of himself, he moved past her without any lingering appearance of remorse to show for the harsh shove he gave to her shoulder as he exited the hall. Still, his forearm did feel the twitch of her bicep as he passed, the tensing of her shoulders was visible to the corner of his right eye, as was the way her lids suddenly snapped shut and her teeth grit together in her jaw. For all his self-control, and for his own newfound lack of emote, the sparkle of wet due upon her darkened eyelashes brought forth a twinge from something deeply hidden within his chest, that sensation which he dared not place name unto.

The air came sharp to his lungs as winter crossed his path, he wrapped his familiar coat tight to his frame, and marched through the thin snow layer. Urging himself to get to the town without an idle thought to stop his motions. He had found logic with the departure of his emotions, yet, in that same comprehension, he had come to the simple realization that he had not truthfully lost his ability to feel emotion as he’d thought; merely found that his emotions were only directed towards one person.

Thus, he had found himself questioning his own feelings weeks ago, only to come to a simple understanding that he was indeed in love with the small pyromancer of Fairy Tail. It had put him into disconcertment at first, yet, even with such knowledge he had merely allowed the feeling to continue, without even considering he might halt the tender sensation. Natsu, was the only person who could force him into harbouring feeling, though she had no knowledge of her ability, and though it was selfish, he had no intention of letting go of the warmth it brought him. Discomfort quickly came to him whenever the thought came upon him, that she might find someone else, and he knew that though nye impossible in likelihood he should ask her on a date before the opportunity left him, just as Bisca had whispered.

First however, Laxus knew that he had to find himself a secure earning: and although he wished it untrue, a magical career in a guild was no longer a plausible option unto him. But, a place as a military man, a soldier, was an open option to one with his sword skills, it was a dangerous life, but no further then that of an S-class wizard, lesser so if dealing with minor targets. The gold he would earn would certainly be enough to help pay for himself and Natsu.

He breathed through his nose, a deep breath heaving his body. He had always known Natsu a capable woman, and did not doubt her ability as a mage, but he also knew that occasional D-classed jobs would not feed both of them, it would certainly not pay for his expensive apartment, or the soon to be necessary medical treatment he would need. A smile of self-mockery broke his face, as he considered her amendment expression, somehow, he found himself respecting the woman ever more for her vindication of her own capacity, in the inner workings of his own idle thoughts, he knew he’d just found himself falling into a deeper love for the dragonslayer from her adamant words, in spite of his own harshly mannered dismissal of her ill-contrived proposition. The glance he made to his hand was out of ponderance; wandering if she could do as she claimed. Yet he still found his harsh step crunching the iced snow beneath his boot-heel as he marched into the military building. Despite his own advocation however, he did find his shoes turning into the ground underneath the slipping ice, and his orange gaze did snap backwards as he halted: The remembrance of Natsu’s large eyes glinting with tears, those that he had caused by his own brash action of leaving in harsh dismissal; he looked to his hands, recalling her small, dainty fingers guiding his large clumsy ones in each sign, the grin on her face as she did so.

“Laxus!” Her yell echoed through the streets and he turned to look at her without a consideration of the mistake he might be making in doing so. She stopped before him, gasping slightly for breath, he flicked his eyes away from her still nude chest to her forehead. “Look, I didn’t mean- I don’t think you’re incapable or anything, I just- I mean-” Her jaw clenched, and an amusement came to him as he watched her stutter, a sight he had never truly seen previous. Her fists clenched at her sides as she angrily stomped her foot -bare- into the snow -he briefly wondered if she cracked the cobblestone with the force of the action.- “I just don’t think you should go to the military. Because you aren’t well and I-” For some reason, which Laxus had no insight into, she punched him then, in what he assumed to be frustration. A snort came through his nose, it was a mockery unto himself.

He signed: “ ** _Almost sounds like you’re worried.”_** It was a jest, however, her foot stomped into the ground again and she stared directly up into his eyes with a bright red flush in her cheeks.

“Yeah, so what if am?! Its not a crime! I just- When those knights bound you- you didn’t fight back, and that was not the Laxus I knew okay!? But, you- I mean, when you asked me to move in with you, the words actually sounded like you. A-and I-” She yelled out then, incoherent sounds that meant nothing to any sane person listening. “-Maybe I-” She slapped herself in the face and he almost reached out to stop her before she spoke again. It appeared to be a self-reprimand for her to finish her own sentence. “I kinda, sorta, fell in love with you over last few weeks, months.” All flame left her then as her body went lax and her eyes cast themselves in seeming desolation to the ground “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, obviously-” she laughed to herself. Laxus stared at her as his own breathing hitched to her confession, emotion somehow welling within him as it usually did whence around her bubbly persona. “-nevermind that though! I don’t want you to sign into the knights not _just_ for my sake! But rather because, you have no magic, and it would be safer for you if you did, and its dangerous if you don’t, not that all the other recruits have magic, but you-” As much as Laxus could acknowledge the sight of Natsu rambling was an entertaining one, especially whilst grasped by the holdings of embarrassment: the sensation within him urged him forward: and despite his extreme height he bent down, and in the midst of her flowing, jumbling sentences, he gripped -as gentle as he might, her cheeks and pult her up to him, kissing her with a slight force, a passion burning inside his chest and her response, was to wrap her slender arms around his neck. It was a sudden, unromantic kiss brought on by passion and unintentioned confessions from both of them, alongside a supreme height difference making liplocking difficult, yet, Laxus himself found it a perfect moment, even in its clumsy nature.

They parted with a smack of their lips as cliched as could be, both now breathing hard from their own lack of air. While the tall man groaned at the ache his back decided to resonate from his awkward and long bend downwards, a pulsation of pain through his veins from his mother’s magic coursing through his body as if in protest for his actions. Natsu laughed heartily below him, and he raised an eyebrow in response her laugh though sweet and tranquil in its familiarity was unusual. “Just- You are really damn tall you know, and I’m just really small!” He rolled his eyes, exasperated by her unpredictability, for her reasoning for humour was strange as she ever was. “Oi, by the way, you have to take me on a date- or whatever now, you know!” he crossed his arms, knowing she was attempting to keep him from the military building. For her own credit, she did acknowledge this, she sighed, as if in resolution. “I won’t stop you from signing up, I won’t, I promise, but let me at least try to talk you out of it first? Just give me one date, after that I won’t try to stop you if its what you want.” Though hesitant, he nodded, she jumped at his affirmative, and clasped his hand in hers to drag him along: The simple simper he cast at the action had nothing to do with the mismatch of their hand sizes when clenched together, nor was it for the warmth her grip provided his cold fingers.

* * *

They came to a grimy bar that stood crooked within the backstreets of Magnolia, it was one that Laxus could recognize as that which his father had brought him to many times before his banishment. He glanced the pinkette at his side, and wondered how she knew of such a place, but he made no comment, and choose not to question and she drug him to a corner table, that which sat with a broken leg and lent against the grease-covered wall for support. She sat upon the rocking chair with a shimmy of her narrow hips, a grin firm on her face, he had no comparison to the joyful expression, Laxus had never seen her so jolly for anything. In turn, though he wondered at its constitution in slight, he leant his arms on the table and flicked his wrist -much as he had seen his father do, to order a drink. His eyes roamed about in observation, to find nearly all he recalled of the bar the same as it had been when he had been a child, even many of the patrons had familiar looks about them. His eye did twitch as he caught several older men giving glances to the bare chest of the girl across from him, whilst some women gave him saultary glances. Natsu made no show of knowing about the leering glances cast her way, and Laxus saw no reason in informing her.

Orange eyes did find the grand piano sitting at the other side of the room and a thought brushed against his mind briefly. It was plainly unused and by appearance, had been that way for many years, no one appeared to care that it was unplayed or that it was a beautiful instrument. Though the twenty-four-year-old could remember that it had been commonly played in his youth, even his father had carried out a tune or two on the worn keys. “You know Laxus, I don’t think a sword suits you.” Natsu spoke, and he turned his focus to her ashen gaze, staring into her knowing eyes in comprehension for her vision of him. He had never before fathomed himself a man of iron either, even so, he could not consider himself to be anything but a fighter as he had always been. Strength had always been a key facet of his definition as a person, thus he could not invision himself as anything other then a combative man. He found himself turning away from his company, registering the words as truthful enough. Then he felt the feather light touch of scarred hands gripping at his arm, he snapped his gaze to Natsu once more, her earnest smile startled him. “There has to be something else, something that suits you better, that you like. Because to me, you looked so… uncomfortable, when you were practising on those training dummies.” He gave her a smile, a slight tingle of warmth filling him at the way she stared at him. Once more however, his eyes found the piano sitting adjacent in the far corner, she followed his gaze to the resting beauty. A thoughtful expression crossing her, “do you play?”

A sound similar to a laugh came from him then. “ ** _Yes, though not for a long time.”_** He took a deep breath, looking at her face, pondering if he should come to admittance. He made a decision, and Natsu watched his fast signing with rapid attention. “ ** _As a child, it was feared that I would never be able to serve as a mage because of my unique situation, I was very sick as a kid. So, my father taught me swordplay, that way I could become a member of the military. Grandpa hated the idea, and suggested that if my magical surgery didn’t work; that I could become a piano man instead, my grandmother even taught me how to play. I decided back then, that if I couldn’t become a wizard, that I’d play the piano, become a musician.”_** He slowly set down his hands and waited for her to stop blinking in surprise. She did, she grinned at him, a coy smirk coiling her lips.

“Play me something?” It was his turn to blink at her, but it took only a moment for him to regain his stoicism, and he stood from the chair, she watched him with irises that glimmered in the dim pub light, compassion in her gaze as she stared up. It was sentimental, but he allowed himself to bend down and give a kiss to her forehead as he made his way over to the awaiting piano.

A smile made his face as he sat upon the cushioned stool, his hands floated above the keys, he was uncertain of what he could play anymore, though all the keys were easy to remember to his quickfire memory. He had no thought as to what song would suit, so he chose something from classical rock, and swiftly played as best he might. In automatic his body swayed to the melody, the rhythm intrapping him as comfort came over his fingers as they danced over the keys. A warmth, just as when Natsu gripped his hand came over him as he played. He turned to look at her, and saw a soft smile upon her visage, she appeared older then she was leaning against the crooked table and staring at him with the gentle expression he had scarcely ever seen upon her.

Absently, he took notice of the quiet fallen over the room surrounding. But his eyes strayed not from Natsu’s beautiful and strong figure sitting surrounded by weak lowlives. Everyone was staring at him, he noticed, even so, his orange eyes were struck by her ashen grey, and the grin she cast him as she looked to the floor in embarrassment. 


	6. Memorized Touches

New years eve brought a celebration unto them all, as everyone within the guildhall made valiant efforts to forget their grieving states of depression. No one was particularly joyful, yet no one was entirely melancholy either, around the hall each person wore their version of a smile. Several older folks who'd remained were taking their share of the ale left within the barrels in the back, some were being uncivilized and smoking up marijana in the corners while laughing with each other over a ridiculous notion they'd just conceptualized at random. Others were dancing together at the floor cleared from tables to the sound of a newfound jazz tune Laxus played on the recently bought grand piano. Couples, married or not, eagerly made-out or groped each other in full view of wandering, gossip-grabbing eyes; in that same vein, several people had said their goodnights and gone to enjoy a more private celebration away from public viewing. By his own curiosity, Laxus had watched Jet and Droy leave together with full smiles and easily seen clasped held-hands, he'd shrugged at the sight and snorted through his nose, reminding himself to tell Macou that the man owed him twenty gold coins for his lost bet. As it were, he had begun to play a slower tune as the aura became calm from what it had been an hour previous.

Most of the company had left aside from the common stragglers, the violet haired master was finishing cleaning up the counter, and Wakaba was reaching underneath the cupboards for his astray coat. Alzak had already disappeared home far earlier in the evening, saying something about being discomforted by large celebrations and too much booze: though his country girlfriend had remained drinking to her full extent, she'd had her hair braided by Locki hours ago and her lipstick had been smeared from a kissing dare nearly thirty minutes ago, she was laughing as she got up from her table with a tilted grace however. Laxus got up from his stool with a stretch of his legs, helping the woman stabilize by grabbing at her elbow in aid. Naturally, as he did so the hall retained its normal quant quiet once more, he was smooth on his feet in comparison to the sniper, though he still wavered a little in his movements as he properly stood.

He stretched at his neck, to catch sight of Natsu sitting on top of a wood surface, her legs spread out improperly and kicking out beneath her. Unlike him, she was swaying about in her motions and her cheeks were flushed with the heat of alcohol, a ridiculous smile stretching her cheeks as her chest heaved. He walked up to her with the intention of helping her up, then guiding her home with a steady hand, but was grasped by a sudden hand on his coat and pulling him down to her level, demanding lips crashing into his own with unexpected force. In all the control he pertained, he managed to sway his mind from all directions it had wondered, placing both his hands to her side upon the tabletop and pushing away from her tug. Though the protesting sound very similar to a wanton groan she made as he did so nary erased all his determination not to take her in public, on a wooden table. Her pupils were only slightly dilated as he looked into her gaze, and he comprehended with a groan of his own that the woman was not drunk at all, she was merely horny. Much in pertainment to his own instinctive urges, he drug her up by the arm she still had clasped to his leather coat and shoved her rather harshly in the direction of the door. No protest left her, but a bellowing laugh did, as while they walked he kept shoving her in slight towards their apartment, in spite of the darkness he glimpsed at her every time he did so and every time she would cast him a coy teasing smirk, fully acknowledging of her own taunting nature.

She tripped up the stairs, and he covered her body with his own taller frame as he opened the door and Natsu nearly fell into the apartment with the movement of the wood. His arm slammed the door closed, and he sloppily locked the hatch while he picked her up by the hips and shoved her violently against the wall, primal want urging him forward, as his hips jerked to the air, her smaller figure wrapped tightly around his abdomen and chest, her powerful thighs were squeezing him tightly to her, her breasts were rubbing against his collarbones, he nipped at her neck as he pulled at her long hair.

She was eager for him, and he swore he could feel the wetness beneath her trousers as she ground against him, he barely cupped her and she let out a squeal of pleasure. It urged him furthermore, his want to be inside her mounting at her apparent desire. He tossed her onto his bed without a care for her comfort, though she seemed to show no care herself, as her reaching arms merely pulled him against her body once more in response.

Dainty fingers clenched his hair tugging at it as she made miniscule sounds of pleasure as he trailed kisses down her chest. It was with a small rip that her blocking vest peeled off her slight frame and her pert rose nipples were exposed, he teased at her breasts while his hands traveled downwards. Not a heed paid to her slight protests that he move faster, he clasped a nipple into his mouth and once more she squealed in delight, in succession as it were for it was then that his fingers found her clit in a pinch.

She squirmed beneath him whispering words he could hardly hear as her mouth buried itself at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Her legs rose then, and in a show of flexibility she shoved her head back onto his pillow and wrapped both her thighs around his shoulders. It was then that he slid a finger inside her and she began panting as if overwhelmed, she came over his hand, but encouraged him further with a slight press from her muscled thighs. His pants were already half undone and he had no issue with sliding them off fully, she spoke then, a slurring wisp in her voice. "I don't care about being proper, just do it." While he recognized the bad idea for what it were, he made no argument, and began to press inside her, covering her mouth with his own in the most comfort he could manage as the tight grip her walls encompassed him, nearly causing him to rut as an animal.

It was a brash and quick night, neither of them truly considered their actions until the climax had worn off. Laxus especially, as he only came to realizing afterwards that he had came inside the woman without a concern upon his mind for possible consequences. His only thought had been how she'd screamed his name at that moment, as if she had felt nothing better priour to that.

He scrubbed his hands down his face in thought, it wasn't as if he had been planning an erotic night, so he had no stash of morning after pills, or even condums stored away in his sock drawer. The spare change he had from working pubs in the weekends; was mainly used for his secret savings and the medication he would soon need, thus he had no money to pay for any birth control for the pinkette -as he should do after a night caused by his own lust.

He'd rolled to the side of her, against the wall and pressed up to the window, while she somehow managed to take up nearly all his queen sized mattress with her tiny five-two frame by stretching herself in a t-formation. Natsu was not doing anything, not making an attempt to move besides the norm, and her eyes were firmly fixated on the ceiling. "Cana was right." She whispered at last, and though he turned to look at her in dread for the conclusion of her sentence, he still listened. "Tall men really do have bigger dicks." The laugh almost bellowed out of him then. Though any silent mockery he would have made of her knowledge of that apparent fact, was halted as she curled to his side with her arms clasped around his waist, and mumbled an exhaustion riddled 'goodnight.'

He simply fell asleep in that oddly comforting position as well.

* * *

He woke and made breakfast, though the routine was made slightly different as he had to detangle her arms from around his waist before he could gracefully fall out of his own bed. Mainly because he'd forgotten his paints were half-down and he'd been forced to pull them up whilst standing, gladdened by the fact that Natsu was such a deep sleeper that she hadn't seen the moment to mock him for it later. He left his shirts alone, merely kept on his low hung trousers, he scratched idly at his tattoo as he mixed pancake batter, wondering if he truly should have the mark finished while he worked as a barway piano man. His hair fell in front of his mixing, it was a slight irritant, but before he could tie it sloppily back, Natsu had grabbed at his bangs and had begun to braid his hair; though she was reaching upwards to do so, he couldn't find the care to protest; instead, he bent down as he cooked, more to her level, she gave a sweetened sounding hum of approval as he did so. Then braided at his back hair before tying the three braids together behind his head: it moved his hair out of the way, and he raised an eyebrow at her as she sat at the table with a quiet hiss.

Laxus choose not to make a jeering sign at her clear discomfort. Already well acknowledging her reasoning, he poured a hearty amount of syrup on her pancakes and put butter on his own before sitting himself, drinking a glass of orange juice. She dug in with a grin, though her eyes flickered to the fridge for a moment "hey could you get me some apple juice?" He grunted in his own mild version of complaint, questioning why she could not do so herself "I mean I would but uh.." She squirmed once more looking annoyed by her own lack of want to move. He sighed at the sight, but still he stood and grabbed her the bottle from the fridge, the grin she gave him for the effort caused him to heartily drink from his class and ignore her smile. He ate his first bite before putting down his fork and making a sign, she watched him.

 _ **"Are you gonna shower?"**_ A scowl came upon her then. **_"You smell."_** He retaliated for her unasked question. He wasn't avoiding his gaze from her entirely uncovered breasts, but he was attempting not to blatantly stare.

He did glare as she smirked up to him."You do too, you know. Like sex." His eyes rolled at her jeer of the obvious. He focused on the next piece of food he had to shove in his face, "you're really good with your hands you know." The statement did nearly make him choke, granted there had hardly been anything left in his throat to cough on. He did look her dead in the eye with the best glare he could manage while attempting not to choke out his throat-pipe. "Not like that! I meant, like with cooking, swords, and the piano, that kinda thing-" He reached for the scrap of paper they left on the table for him and fiddled with the pen, as he shook it for ink, she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted, the syrup on her hands sticking her long pink hair to her fingers. "-So why didn't you become a musician or something? Gramps suggested it, and you're good at playing and all. It wouldn't be a bad idea." He wrote out his answer as quick he could, scribbled it into basic legibility and he flicked it towards her without a care if she saw it or not.

 _"I could have. But the surgery worked, so I wasn't allowed to."_ It was a simple, candid answer, and he had no problems with the admittance, regardless of his still lingering issues with his forgone father. She glared down to the innocent white scrap stuck to her hands as if it were the cause. Still she said nothing until she stood and walked around the table to his side and kissed his cheek to leave a smear of sticking artificial goo on his face. She shot him a grin at the narrowed eyes she received in return, her hands folded behind her back as she leaned to look up at him through thick eyelashes.

"Come on' shower with me, not like there's anything to hide eh' big guy?" He stood, all while wondering if she purposefully made herself sound licentious, if he was a large prude without realizing it, or if neither was true and she was simply completely oblivious to common social standards. At that moment however, he found the cast downwards gaze she made, and he nearly slapped her over the head for the intention in her eyes. Even so, the thought of holding her in the shower was both an arousing and pleasing thought to his lonely cast mind. She was nearly naked as it was, her hair was spread over her ass and back but that was the entirety of it, there was white and red painting the inner most areas of her upper thighs, his face had the decency to blush at the knowledge of that sight. Guilt surfacing within him slightly; he hadn't realized she was a virgin. For the sake of his own belated candour, he had recognized that Natsu's age may be compromising unto a man of his appearance-assumed age grouping.

He had never fathomed himself wanting to take a young teenager to bed, regardless of his adoration of the woman. Despite his faltering morales as he stared at her retreating figure, he followed, already his mind spoke clear; Laxus felt the instinct whelm his thoughts, as if the girl afore him burnt her thoughts upon his mind. His hands came to twitch as did his neck in the restraint he barely managed to retain; he wished to kiss her once more, to feel her pressure against him -short though she may be. To have her lengthened hair brush against his arms as he held her close as he might. All beliefs he left disregarded: As he followed her swaying masculine orientated hips into the bathroom, scorning himself as he recognized that they weren't simply the hips of a tomboy, but a seventeen-year-old, still pubescent, woman; she whom he had wrongly defiled.

Yet, watching her push at the door, his eyes came to sparkle in an almost licentious manner, as he comprehended his love for the woman he'd dirted: That should anyone else had done so, he would have been furious, he knew, he would have been jealous to the point wherein he would have regained his once overwhelming egotism in selfish want. As it were, Natsu had made no protest, indeed, she had no qualms as she tilted her head in the direction of the shower, a questioning stare intergrained upon her express, near mocking by its lude intentioned beckoning.

A sigh did escape him deeply, as he forwent his sense of morale, of duty, in such a manner and followed her slighter frame into the room. She'd already bent to warm the water whence he arrived and shut the door, for a fraction of a moment he was regretful of the lost sight. Though she did face him then, a smile in place upon her face, slight breasts bounced briefly in his vision, her arms behind her back as she lent upon the tub's frame with a coy smirk smoldering her visage as her eyes alit with a licentious flame, legs loosely spread as if an invite. Laxus, reluctantly, looked away from her vision, to the bath which was filling with warm water. As it approached full, he stripped himself, tossing clothing to the ground without a care; then he grabbed her by the waist and caused a great splash as he nearly threw her into the awaiting water, he entered after, noting for himself that her hair was a very deepened musty pink whence wet, both sets; as he took glimpse downwards, much uncouthly.

Natsu was unhappy with his act, yet her grin was amused, joyous. She splashed him in retaliation, though he simply grasped onto her slender arms and took her into his own, pressing her forcefully into his own chest; burrowing his nose into her dampened hair and breathing in. For just a moment of reflection upon himself and plausible outcomes their life could have forced upon them; wondering if he could have lost her on Tenrou, to hold her now brought a soothing unto his muscles and breath, for though it was unspoken, he loved her, and he thought that perhaps; she may come to love him as such as well. Emotions as it were had become a bleak longing for his mentality, yet, he had by insofar kept himself steady whilst among the woman in his arms, conscious of himself and his complicated feelings even while they dimmed in the presence of others of the guild.

Most surprising, was that she allowed him to maintain his hold upon her. Not a string of protest came upon his ear, not a shove of disagreement; indeed, he could feel her press in slight against him in earnest, a smile against his pectoral.

"I don't care ya' know? You never really changed to me, even when you were a huge jerk, you were still, you, underneath the look you gave off." He flinched as her words came close to an honesty he had yet to truly recon with in earnest unto himself. He drew back as far as he might with his back resting firm to the tile. Her eyes met his as she stared upwards, a gaze of ferocity gazing into him as if a mirror of his own expression of comprehension. "Laxus. All of that, before, with the guild, with how 'weak' the guild was… against me, against Gajeel, you felt weak didn't you?" He gasped in protest of her sentencing, shaking away her eyes, their blaring stare into his own, finding solace in the misted tile beside. "Your dad was banished. But what of your mother?" She questioned, he shoved her from him in a sudden panic flaring in his abdomen burning at his mind as memories resurfaced; it was not a past he wished Natsu, of all people, to know of. He was uncomfortable, discomforted by her sudden care unto his childhood. "Laxus-" He slammed his fist into the siding of the bathtub, his best denial of answer, and removed himself from the water, taking the towel hanging to brush himself off dispassionately before tossing it unto the loo for her to use later.

He slipped on his sweatpants, then left. Slamming the door behind himself, gasps escaping him in a panic he had not realized he possessed. The heated burn of a hand against his ear and the yell echoing loud in his head, the taunting words once more ringing against all his worth. Beneath, his genitals ached in guilt at the remembrance, for but a moment he a tear slipped his eye as his hand tightened over the doorknob. His walk wobbled into his own room, he questioned in fleeting fear just what Natsu may think of him should his past come to light:

It was in all likelihood that the woman, though dull in her competence upon occasion, knew, or could guess, of his father's demeanour towards him. Laxus made no attempt to clear such presumptions, there was no denial to make for such conclusions, as his father had brought upon himself such assumptions, with the conduct of his own manner. Yet, neither did Laxus make himself to redeem the man in any way, for all the randomized times whence the man had come to care for his son, Laxus made no point to make clear his soiled past to anyone whom assumed, neither unto anyone who knew the truth. Nor did he make haste to clean the view of his father's tarnished perception amongst his peers; for in speaking of Ivan's attempts at heroism in saving him from his mother's chilled grip, he felt nothing but detest: Ivan had commonly allowed her grip to feel blemished upon his son's young, child skin, he'd normally; allowed her to speak vile into his son's ears without a pause, he allowed his wife freedom unto her actions so long as her angered punches were not directed upon himself.

Laxus felt no gratitude unto his father. Not anymore. And as it were, to think of his mother was nye impossible as his mind would quake as his heart would race, and his fear tormented him in earnest, with lingering physic memories of her hands touching over his skin.


End file.
